a you and a me
by drowningsun
Summary: He never did like the sea, but maybe she could change that. WARNING: CRACK PAIRING! TO THE EXTREME! They've never even met. XD Dudley/Luna Drabbleish/Oneshot-thing


**A/N: I do believe that this may be one of the most CRACKIEST pairing ever known to the world. That means that if you don't LIKE crack pairings, then you REALLY shouldn't read this, AT ALL. Don't bash me for this, turn around and run! XD OK, so aside from that, I've tried to keep the characters as in-character as possible, but I don't know if I did it right. Please let me know! ^.^**

_For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),_

_It's always our self we find in the sea. _

As he grew up, he started to hate the sea; it was so…so…_sandy_, and he just never really had the _time_ to be bothered with it. Besides, his father said it was impractical, and that only _women _and _children_ wasted time doing frivolous things like going to the beach. And he was neither of those, _right?_ That last part was said so _snidely_ that he never once considered going again(_not ever),_ even when faced with the slight sadness and hurt that flashed in his mother's eyes when he refused her pleadings. He didn't feel even a _twinge_ of regret, he convinced himself. He really didn't.

And then he met a girl. A girl with a small, pale face and wide grey? blue? green? eyes that reminded him of the _sea_, with blond-white?-hair that tumbled over her back like _sea foam_. From the very first moment she agitated him; he didn't understand _why_ or _how _or _what_ but he understood that something about her was_ just a little off_-later he thinks the clothes should have been a tip off, but he was _never really that bright, anyway._ And so, after a swift glance he walks away, shakes himself off-like a dog-and forgets until the next time he meets her.

The next time he meets her, she's visiting his cousin with his _looney_ friends and he realizes why she seemed so _strange_-she's magic. He also realizes that the first day her, she was wearing the same necklace of seashells that she wears today. The shells are _light_ pink-it's barely there-and _dark_ purple, like midnight, and they're the cup-like ones that people say you can hear the sea in. He wonders when he started noticing things like that and blinks, startled out of his reverie when he notices that his father and his daft cousin are having a rather loud, rather annoying row; and he knows _exactly_ what this one's about. He glances at the girl and then back at his red-faced dad. "Let them come over, Dad." Vernon Dursely gapes, spluttering like a fish out of water, his complexion a mottled reddish-purple. "But-but-but…" Dudley stares back at him dully. "_They're magic!"_ The man is whining, and it isn't attractive _at all_. Dudley shrugs, uncaring, or so he pretends. "Yeah. They can stay up in _his_ room." He can see that his dad _still _isn't convinced. "It'll keep him out of your way." His dad grunts, but Dudley knows he's won; Harry glances at him, puzzled, but hurries quickly up the stairs, as if he's afraid Vernon will change his mind. The girl stops halfway up the stairs and stares down at him with her large eyes, watching him. He glances back at her for only a second, and he realizes she isn't just _looking at him,_ she's _seeing__ him_, and he doesn't like it.

He watches his wife get ready for the party out of the corner of his eye; her dress is a pale ice-cold, sky blue dress, simple and pretty, and she hums sweetly-childishly-as she pins her normally wild, unkempt hair up in a rather messy-and yet, somehow he likes it-bun with the pearl comb he bought her a year ago. He watches as she reaches down and slips the ever-familiar shell necklace over her head. "Aren't you going to wear the pearls?" She looks at him, and her eyes are laughing at him. "No." He sighs a sigh filled with self-righteous disappointment, and she laughs. "Why not?" He whines, and then remembers his father doing the _same thing_, and he feels ashamed. "I like to keep the ocean near me," she answers simply-and yet, confusingly-as she steps towards him lightly, and placing a hand gently on his arm to steady herself, stands on the tips of her toes to press one of the shells against his ears. "Here." He listens, and hears a roaring swirl that does sound an _awful lot like_ the ocean, but he knows this can be explained away by one sentence of _science_. However, as he opens his mouth to tell her so, he looks down at her eyes, and sees something in her that _dances_. "You like the sea?" He asks calmly; it's the _magic_, he decides. But isn't magic like any other he's ever seen(and he's seen _plenty_, thank you very much-he's related to Harry-Bloody-Potter), it reminds him of the ocean. She looks up at him, and she smiles, and he knows he won't be getting an answer anytime soon "I'll take you sometime," he decides; he doesn't want that magic to _ever leave her._


End file.
